


The Lights in New York City

by myblueworld



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Silvilla, i can't move on from these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 22:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5309573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myblueworld/pseuds/myblueworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lights in New York City are colorful. The lights in New York City are bright. But they are fake. Just like the promises that Villa makes to move on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lights in New York City

The lights in New York City are colorful. But Villa can only think of some colors that are not there. He can only think about the color of the burning charcoal in Silva’s eyes, staring at him with question that they both don’t want to know the answer to. Villa keeps on dreaming about the glorious colors of sunset in Spain.

Hands hidden in the pocket of his coat, Villa stares at the neon light, bent and curled into letters in bright blue colors. But it only awfully reminds him of that shade of blue that reflects the color of the sky.

***

“He is a good lad.” Frank’s comment from behind startles Villa.

He quickly closes his laptop that he was using to watch a video someone has uploaded on Youtube about Silva’s skills. His face turns red as he can feel the embarrassment creeping up without even knowing why.

“Uh… Who?”

There is a small knowing smile on Frank’s lips as he gestures his chin a little to the now-closed laptop.

“Your friend that you were just watching. He is a good person.”

_No. He is not just good. He is more than that. He is all the good things in this life, in Villa’s life. David Silva is everything that David Villa has ever wanted in his life, and at the same time, the thing that he no longer have._

Villa nods at Frank.

“He is a nice person.” He clears his throat a little. “Do you like him?”

Villa almost cringes at his own question. Half because the question suddenly sounds so naïve, half because he can’t believe that his tone was almost accusing. In front of him, Frank’s smile is still the same calm, quiet smile the English man always seems to have. But his greenish eyes get brighter a little.

“Well, everybody likes him.”

A simple answer that makes Villa’s heart suddenly full with fondness, and at the same time, clenched by jealousy.

***

The lights in New York City are bright. But they are fake anyway. Just like those forced smiles that Villa has whenever someone mentioned Silva’s name in a conversation. It’s as fake as the lie he told himself that he’s going to be all right without Silva.

Villa ignored the curse coming from the driver of a cab when he was trying to cross the hustling traffic. He’s already used to the busy, hectic, glorious and at the same time impersonal kind of life in New York City. It’s no longer calling Silva as his is something that he’s not used to yet.

Perhaps he never will.

***

“So, are you seeing someone?”

Villa laughs, wondering whether Silva can hear the bitterness that he is tasting in his laughter.

“What do you think?” he asks him back.

“I’m hoping that you are.” Silva answers calmly from the other end of the line.

And Villa can’t help himself to think, _Because you are, aren’t you?_

“I’m too busy for that.”

“Villa…”

Villa does not say a word. Does not know how any words can fix this distance that feels even further and further.

“I just want you to be happy.”

Hand clenches his phone tighter, Villa pressed his forehead on the cold surface of the window.

_You are happy now, aren’t you? And I should be happy because now you are happy but how can I be happy when it isn’t me that making you’re happy?_

“I am happy.”

“Good. But really, I hope one day, you’ll be happy as you pretend to be.”

“I will.”

“Try to.”

“I will. I promise I will.”

As the screen of his phone goes blank, Villa stares at the lights of the city. He thinks of how colorful and bright they are. And how his promises are just like those lights. Fake.

***

The lights in New York City are bright and colorful. But they do nothing to the cold that Villa feels deep inside as he walks mindlessly through the streets. There are thousands of lights here in the glorious, glamorous New York City. But the only light that Villa cares about is in the eyes of someone far away.

And the light is no longer his.

 


End file.
